Redemption
by Meghan1998
Summary: Bellamy convinced Clarke to stay at camp after the incident at Mount Weather. Now she has to deal with the trauma and aftermath of her decision. But she's not alone in this.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey everyone,** **it has honestly been months since I have posted anything at all, and I honestly** **housand excuses as to why, but they don't really matter now, cause I'm back!**

 **So, this is my first story about The 100, and the idea came to me when I watched the season 2 finale and cried when Clarke left Bellamy. Hope you guys, like this new story!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The 100.**

 **Please read and review! :)**

Chapter 1

Clarke watched the gate jerk open, blue eyes following the bodies as they stumbled through the opening, clothes clutched tightly to their bodies. She felt detatched from the world as stronger men hauled two stretchers into the camp. One held her mother. She should be happy, her mother was alive afterall. But for some reason, Clarke could feel nothing more than disgust. Disgust in herself, for what she had done.

"Clarke," a voice snapped the blonde from her self-loathing trance.

"Huh?"

Whipping herself around, Clarke found herself eye to eye with Bellamy. His eyes held something Clarke couldn't place, and yet, at the same time, it felt so familiar.

"Come on," he gestured to the open gate.

"I... I..." Clarke stuttered, her eyes flickering frantically from the gate, to Bellamy's emotional brown orbs.

"What? What's wrong?" he asked.

"I can't face them. Not after what I've done."

"Clarke."

Tear filled blue eyes rose from the ground to stare into equally wet brown ones. Their gaze was locked for a moment, and neither one spoke for a few seconds.

"Where? Where will you go?" Bellamy asked quietly.

"I'm not sure. But I can't stay here."

"You can't leave."

"Why not?" she asked, looking intently into his eyes.

Bellamy didn't answer, choosing instead to drop his gaze to stare at his filthy boots and play distractedly with the buttons on his stained white button down. He only decided to look up when he heard a light sniff.

"Clarke?"

The blonde didn't look up from her hands, but Bellamy's eyes followed as a few stray tears fell from her dark lashes, falling silently to the dirt and yellowing grass below their boots.

"I can't face them. Not after what I've done. Not with all this blood on my hands," she sniffed, watery eyes still refusing to rise from the ground.

Bellamy's hand found her armoured shoulder, his other taking her filthy chin between his equally filthy fingers.

"Our hands, Clarke. You don't have to shoulder this on your own," Bellamy whispered gently.

"I bore this so they wouldn't have to," Clarke mumbled, blue eyes staring passed Bellamy's shoulder to her mother, seeing the flurry of people rushing around her.

"You can get through this Clarke. You saved all of the people inside of that gate."

"By murdering countless others," Clarke muttered.

"There was no other way, Clarke."

The blonde didn't respond, choosing instead to avoid Bellamy's gaze.

"Give it a chance, Clarke. A week. Stay here for a week and let me show you that we can move on from this. We can get better," Bellamy pleaded, trying to get her to meet his eyes again.

"And what if we can't? What if they hate us?"

"Then you and I, and whoever else wants to come along, we'll leave. We'll go somewhere else and start over. Build a new camp and start a new life."

The blonde studied him intently, watching for any sign at all that he was lying. A sign that he was tricking her into something horrible. When she found nothing, the blonde nodded her head slightly, just enough for Bellamy to see that she agreed with him.

"This had better not be a mistake," Clarke muttered.

Bellamy pulled her close, pressing her petite body to his much larger one.

"It won't be. Trust me," he mumbled into her blonde waves.

Smiling timidly, Bellamy drew away, throwing an arm around Clarke's rigid shoulders, keeping her close to him as they trudged tiredly toward the open gate. Clarke was reluctant at times, her feet almost giving out; Bellamy had to push her lightly to keep her moving, even at their agonizingly slow pace.

As they stepped through the gates into the camp, many minutes after the rest of the returning troups, head turned to stare at the duo. Clarke could feel them almost burning holes into her body, knocking her down where she stood.

"Bellamy," Clarke whimpered.

"Ignore 'em. It doesn't matter."

So she tried. Her tired blue eyes locked onto her mother. She was on a stretcher, blankets cocooned around her, trying to keep her from going into shock, and tubes hung from an IV beside her, pumping fluids into the doctor's bloodstream. Clarke noticed that Marcus Kane sat beside her mother's stretcher, watching over her mother.

"Go," said Bellamy, nudging the blonde forward, finally dropping his arm from her shoulder.

That was all Clarke needed. She stumbled on her tired legs, tripping forward until she made it to her mother's side, falling to her knees beside her mother's head, ignoring Kane as she looked at her mother.

"Mom?"

Abby turned her head to find Clarke beside her and the injured woman's face lit up with a lightbulb. The excitement vanished from her face as quickly as it came when she took in the tear tracks on Clarke's cheeks and the red rims around her eyes.

"Clarke..." Abby struggled to push her exhausted body into a sitting position. Kane's hands flashed to her shoulders, hovering over the woman's shirt, but just high enough that he wasn't touching the fabric.

"Mom, lay back," Clarke ordered lightly, gently pushing on the doctor's shoulders until the woman was flat against the stretcher again.

"Clarke, honey, are you okay?"

"Not now, but I will be Mom," Clarke answered. Her voice broke as she desperately fought to keep her tears at bay. She couldn't cry here. Not in front of all of these people.

"Clarke," Abby said, lifting her hand to rest it against the girl's sticky cheek. "You did what you had to do. You saved them."

The young woman merely nodded, not trusting her voice to stay steady as she avoided everyone's eyes. Schooling her expression; forcing back her tears, Clarke looked up to study the camp, taking in her surroundings.

Blue orbs found Bellamy first. He was standing at the gate, dirty white shirt hanging off of him as his brown eyes watched, flickering between Clarke and Octavia. The younger Blake sibling was standing with off to the side Lincoln; the two seemed to be deep in conversation, always having a hand on the other, never taking their eyes off of each other.

Clarke couldn't find anyone else. Monty, Jasper and Raven seemed to have vanished into the Ark, or at least out of sight, but Clarke didn't dwell on that much.

She could still feel gazes boring into her back as people walked by, blaming her for what happened at Mount Weather, but all Clarke could think about what how much longer she had until she could run; leave all of the looks and judgement behind.

One week, she thought. Just one week.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey! So, this is chapter 2!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The 100!**

 **Please read and review!**

Redemption

Chapter 2

"Clarke... Clarke... Time to get up," a voice cooed.

The young blonde could feel a gentle hand running through her tousselled hair, slowly pulling her from her sleep. Her eyes fluttered open to reveal a blurry Abby Griffin. Clarke groaned, wanting nothing more than to curl under her blankets and hide away from the world. Unfortunately, that wasn't an option.

With a huff, she rose from her warm cot, letting her filthy socked feet slip into her boots, preparing for another day of mindless wandering. Her mother had claimed that she was too 'fragile' to gelp out with any construction within the last couple of days, resulting in the blonde silently observing the construction of Arkadia.

"I want you to help out today," Abby spoke out of nowhere as Clarke laced up her abused boots.

The blonde's head snapped to stare at her mother so fast, it was surprising she didn't end up with whiplash.

"What?"

"It'll be good for you. Go out, get your hands dirty."

Clarke smiled quickly at her mother before scurrying from the tent into the open air. People milled around, going about their morning routine and ignoring their surroundings. Some more alert denizens turned, regarding the blonde with looks that burned through her eager mood like wildfire.

"Hey! Clarke!" a chipper voice called loudly.

The blonde spun, her blue eyes finding a rosy cheeked Octavia jogging toward her.

"What're you doing?" the brunette asked, stopping a few paces from Clarke.

"I'm not sure yet," Clarke answered.

Octavia stood awkwardly for a moment, unsure what to say to the blonde. Clarke's eyes scanned the camp, looking for anything she could do. As her blue orbs rolled over the front gate, a woman tripped into camp, lugging two crudely made buckets filled with water.

Clarke sprung into action, her mind working on autopilot as she rushed to the woman's side, grabbing the handle of one of the buckets. The woman looked up to see her helper, jumping back when she saw who it was.

The blonde's eyes widened as a gasp slipped from the woman's lips. She pulled her hands away, taking a step backward as the woman stumbled away, lugging both pails along with her.

"Wh-What?" Clarke stuttered, watching the woman leave.

"Don't worry about it."

Clarke turned to find Octavia standing behind her again.

"They don't get it," Octavia continued.

"Get what?"

"Us. Or why you and Bell did it."

"They're scared of me," Clarke whispered, eyes still on the retreating woman.

"Us, Clarke. A lot of them think we're savages or something."

"That was something else, Octavia. That wasn't her being skeptical. She was scared of me. Because of what I did on Mount Weather."

"No!"

Octavia was quick to correct her, jumping in front of the blonde.

"How do you know?" Clarke asked.

"Because Clarke, you did what you had to do. And Clarke, you weren't alone in that. Bellamy made that decision with you," Octavia grabbed the blonde by the shoulders, forcing her to look into her eyes.

"They don't know that. And plus, you saw how that woman looked at me. Like I'm unpredictable and unhinged. Something to be feared," Clarke argued.

"Listen to me, Clarke Griffin. That's one person. Ignore her, she doesn't understand the situation. They'll get over it soon enough."

Clarke huffed, giving up on the argument as she caught sight of tanned skin and black curls out of the corner of her eye. Octavia, noticing she had lost the older girl's attention, dropped her arms and gave Clarke a little push.

"He's helping build huts, you should go help," Octavia commented before skipping off.

Taking a deep breath and pushing any thought of the whole ordeal with the woman from her mind, Clarke marched over to Bellamy and a group of other kids she recognized from the original 100.

"Hey," she greeted the group lamely. "Can I help?"

"I don't see why not. Boys?" Bellamy looked around at the group of boys. They responded with shrugs and Bellamy smiled at the blonde,

The morning passed quickly, although to Clarke, it felt like eternity with all the strange looks and reactions she kept getting from people passing. She tried to brush it off, like Octavia had told her, but some cut deeper than others.

The worst came wen Clarke walked into the mess hall for lunch with Bellamy. The two were sweaty and covered in dirt, but they didn't seem to mind in the slightest as they took their portions of food and dropped into some chairs at the back of the room, sitting across from each other. They ate in silence, too busy shovelling food into their mouths to hold a conversation.

"You!" a voice suddenly screamed across the room.

The hall went silent and Clarke's head snapped up from her plate to see Jasper standing in the middle of the hall. Fury blazed in his eyes as he glared at the blonde. She was frozen in place as he stalked toward her, stumbling periodically in his drunken state until he was inches from her face.

"You killed her," he said lowly.

"I..." Clarke didn't know how to respond.

"You killed her!"

Suddenly, Jasper was hauled out of Clarke's face and she could see Bellamy restraining the drunken teen as Raven stood between them.

"Jasper! Jasper, calm down!"

Suddenly, like something snapped inside his mind, Jasper stopped struggling, hanging limply from Bellamy's arms. Bellamy untangled his arms from around Jasper's body. Jasper stodf silently for a moment, head hung and hands jammed into his pockets. As Raven stepped to the side, hus lunged, hands tearing from his pockets to reveal a knife.

It all passed in a blur to Clarke. One moment she stood on her feet. The next, she was pinned against a wall, knife to her throat. Fury blazed in the boy's eyes and Clarke could smell the moonshine on his breath.

"You killed her. And now I'm going to kill you," he mumbled, pressing the knife into her neck.

The blonde stood her ground, defermined to look strong in front of the huge crowd. Blood trickled down her neck, soaking into the collar of her shirt. And suddenly, his weight was pulled away, the cool blade canished from her throat. Clarke gasped, frantically pulling air into her lungs and ignoring the slight pull every time she moved her head. She could hear a struggle somewhere in the room, but couldn't care enough to look for it, instead focusing on her breathing and taking a mental inventory if her injuries.

"Clarke?"

The blonde turned to see Raven, concern lacced through her brown irises.

"I'm fine," Clarke answered quickly.

"Let's get you to the med bay," Raven ordered, placing a hand over the cut on the girl's neck, as well as one on her back, leading her out of the hall.

Clarke followed quietly, avoiding the looks and stares she got from the silent crowd. Some seemed sympathetic, giving her reassuring smiles while others seemed to sneer as she passed, like they were glad.

It didn't take long for the pair to reach the med bay; Bellamy had quickly caught up, and the two helped Clarke shuffle through the plastic flaps and into the make-shift medical area.

What greeted them was not somethjng Clarke, or really anyone, thought would ever happen. The blonde's eyes fell on her mother, who had yet to notice the trio. Abby was pinned to the far wall, Marcus Kane's hands wandering up thr doctor's shirt as her own hands were tangled in his dark curls. The pair were locked in a heated kiss, wigh Abby's leg flung carelessly over the councilman's hip. Clarke wished that he could pour rocket fuel into her brain annburn the image from her memory.

Suddenly, something snapped in Clarke's mind and the blonde spun on her heels and bolted out the doorway. She ran without thinking, slipping through the crack in the gate and rushed into the woods. She could hear shouts of her name echoing behind her, but she ignored them.

Of course, because she wasn't paying attention, Clarke caught her foot on a tree root, which sent her tumbling to the ground. Something snapped as she hit the forest floor and the blonde couldn't hold back her scream.

"She's this way!"

The blonde couldn't focus on anything besides the agonizing pain shooting through her leg, so she only noticed that someone was there to rescue her was when the shadow appeared, casting over her body as gentle, calloused hands brushed her tears away.

"We need to get her back to camp," a voice ordered.

Clarke heard someone grunt in approval before she felt herself being lifted into the air, strong, muscular arms supporting her weight.

"You're gonna be okay," a voice murmured.

Clarke shifted closer to the source of the voice befor she drifted if into blissful unconsciousness.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey! Here's chapter 3!**

 **Disclaimer: Guess what! I still don't own The 100! Who would've thought!**

Redemption

Chapter 3

Clarke drifted in and out of consciousness, catching pictures and flashes of moments as she bounced along in Bellamy's arms. A canopy of green. Then black. Bright blue sky. Black again. Dark metal of the Ark. Black.

Hours later, things seemed to have settled. As Clarke's eyes fluttered open to reveal the dull, dark ceiling of the med bay. She could feel something warm and strong wrapped around her hand; something else, something comforting, brushing back her damp curls.

"Clarke?"

The blonde groaned, screwing up her face before blinking her eyes open again to look into two endless pools of brown.

"Clarke?"

"Wh-What happened?" the blonde rasped.

"Well, you caught your mom in a... compromising position. And then you kinda bolted. I found you in the woods," Bellamy explained.

"I remember that," Clarke sighed. "I mean, what happened to my leg?"

"Your mom said you must have dislocated your ankle when you fell. She had to put it back in. There was a lot of screaming," Bellamy shuddered.

Clarke was silent for a moment, searching through her mind for the memories as she tried to piece together the last few hours. She couldn't find anything.

The silence was broken by the sound of boots tapping against the metal flooring, slowly getting closer. Clarke turned her head to see her mother march into the room, unreadable expressions on her face.

"Dr. Griffin," Bellamy greeted the older woman with a curt nod.

"Bellamy."

The trio sat in an awkward silence, thress sets of eyes flicking between each other.

"I'll give you two a moment," Bellamy rose from his seat.

Clarke snatched his wrist and Bellamy's brown eyes caught the blonde's worried gaze.

"Don't go too far," she whispered.

"I won't," he promised.

The blonde released her grip on his wrist; blue eyes followed him as he stepped over to a corner of the room and took a seat on one of the many metal slabs that littered the room.

"Clarke?"

The teen whipped around to stare at her mother.

"I was going to tell you," Abby began as she pulled the bandage from her daughter's neck.

"When?" Clarke snapped, glaring at the doctor's back as she gathered up clean bandages.

"I wanted to see where it would go first, Clarke," Abby defended herself.

"See where it would go? What the hell does that even mean, Mom?" Clarke tried to sit up, but Abby pushed her shoulder lightly and began brushing Clarke's wound with a damp scrap of fabric.

"I wanted to wait and see if Marcus and I would get into anything more serious before I brought it up to you," Abby explained, placing a new bandage around her daughter's neck.

"More serious? Like what? Pregnancy? You two were making out like horny teenagers!"

"Clarke! That's enough!" Abby snapped.

"I'm out of here," Clarke huffed.

Clarke pushed herself off the slab she had been lying on, swinging her legs and dropping to the floor. Her ankle almost gave away under her weight, but she ignored it, keeping her chin up as she marched her way to the door. With each step on her left ankle, the offending joint wobbled, threatening to collapse under her at any moment.

"Where do you think you're going, Princess?" Bellamy was suddenly in front of Clarke, blocking her path.

"Away from her," Clarke growled.

"Yeah, with that ankle? No way."

Suddenly, Clarke was lifted off the floor, cradled in Bellamy's arms.

"Bellamy! Put me down!" Clarke ordered.

"Sure, Princess," Bellamy smirked, dropping the blonde delicately onto a bed.

"I don't want to be here," Clarke grumbled.

"Too bad, Princess," Bellamy chuckled, running a hand over the fuming blonde's mused locked before turning to Abby.

"I think you should go," he suggested.

Abby nodded before walking slowly out of the room. She stopped to look at her daughter with emotional orbs. Clarke scowled at the woman. With a sigh, Abby continued out of the room.

The pair sat in silence for a moment, Bellamy's eyes locked on Clarke as the blonde avoided his gaze, prefering instead to look down at the threadbare blanket Bellamy had replaced across her lap.

"Clarke," Bellamy started.

"I don't wanna talk about it," Clarke snapped.

"She's your mother."

"I said, I don't wanna talk about it."

The pair fell into silence again.

"The week's almost up," Clarke muttered.

Bellamy nodded, unsure of what to say.

"I don't think we belong here. Not anymore."

"It takes time, Clarke. But it will get better," Bellamy looked intently into her watery baby blues.

He didn't think twice about what he did next, but it felt natural for him as he crawled slowly up into the palate, pulling the teary eyed little blonde into his arms as he shuffled his body under the thin blanket.

"Clarke," a voice broke them from thejr momwnt as the duo whipped around to find Raven standing in the door.

"Raven?"

"I... uh... I heard about your problem. Thought these might help."

The dark haired girl moved up to where the two were sitting and leaned two crudely made crutches against the metal slab.

"Thanks?" Clarke was puzzled as she studied the objects.

"They're crutches, Clarke. So you can move around without puttin weight on your ankle," Raven laughed at the younger girl's expression.

"You wanna try 'em, Princess?"

Clarke nodded, already scrambling from Bellamy's lap and swinging her legs over the side of the bed, grabbing at the crutches.

Bellamy chuckled at her eagerness and hopped effortlessly from the bed to his feet.

"Show off," Clarke grumbled, clearly in a better mood than she had been.

Bellamy and Raven had big smiles as they helped the blonde adjust to the crutches, chuckling at her flustered huffs when she couldn't quite get it, which fueled her frustration. Eventually, the gimpy blonde managed to hobble around the entire infirmary, with Bellamy and Raven watching from the center of the room. So she began to slowly make her way to the door.

"Where are you going?" Bellamy watched her go.

"Out," Clarke smirked. "I should probably find my mom."

Bellamy nodded, following her out into the sunlight, but not stopping her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey! So, here's chapter 4! Hope you enjoy and please read and review!**

 **Disclaimer: Still don't own The 100. No shock there.**

Redemption

Chapter 4

Days flew by after that, blurring together in an ongoing cycle of chores until the end of the week crashed into existance.

Clarke woke with the sun, as usual, quickly dressing before hobbling out kf her tent and into the open area at the center of Arkadia. The girl stood for a moment, leaning heavily on her crutches as her eyes observed everyone lazily begin their routine. She wasn't surprised to come across a lack of Bellamy wandering in the morning air. He tended to sleep in a bit, exhaustion finally reaching him in the early hours, after a night of assaulting nightmares. Clarke understood all too well.

Pulling in a deep breath, she began limping her way across camp, making her way to medical. As she pushed the flaps to the side, she was met with her mother taking inventory of the bandages and other supplies.

"Morning," Clarke greeted.

"Morning," Abby replied distractedly, not looking up from her task.

The blonde watched as her mother finished her job, taking a seat on one of the empty palletes. The doctor smiled and joined her.

"The week's up," Clarke admitted, not looking the older woman in the eye.

"What have you decided?"

Clarke had told Abby about her deal with Bellamy days before, her mother listening supportiving as Clarke told her of the things she had done, tears dripping down her pale cheeks.

"I don't know," Clarke whispered defeatedly.

"Clarke," the doctor took her daughter's hands in her own. "Whatever you decide, I will always love you."

The teen nodded, unsure of how to rrspond. Abby put an arm around her shoulder, pulling the girl into a hug. The pair sat like that for a moment before Abby broke the silence.

"Wanna help out for a while?"

Clarke's response was to rise to her feet, taking a moment to find her balance on the metal rods before following the brunette.

After an hour of sorting through bandages and herbs, Clarke made her way out of medical toward Bellamy's tent. She found him standing just outside the door, back arched in a stretch. As he fell from his stretch, his brown eyes fell on the crippled blonde.

"Can we talk?"

"Sure," he nodded toward the tent in an invitation. The two entered the small tent unnoticed.

"So," Bellamy spun around to face her.

Before Clarke could even open her mouth to begin, the conversation was interupted by shouts coming from outside.

"Bellamy! Come quick, the camp is surrounded!" Octavia's voice rang clearly through the thin walls of the tent.

"Pick this up later?" Bellamy asked.

"Of course."

The two made their way through the thick crowd of people, elbowing their way to the front. The pair flanked Abby and Marcus. Clarke tried to ignore the proximity of the man she had sworn as her enemy. Looking forward, Clarke was met with sneering Grounders.

"Her!" one of them yelled. "Give us Wanheda and you may live."

"No," Abby gasped, unconsciously throwing an arm in front of her daughter.

"There must be another way," Marcus argued.

Clarke held back a growl, hating that the man who was hooking up with her mother was defending her.

"This is not a negotiation. Give us the girl," the Grounder yelled.

Both Abby and Kane were silent, unable to think up a proper response.

"You have until sundown," they threatened before turning and rushing silently into the cover of the trees.

"Get her into the Ark. Now!" Marcus barked orders to the frantic crowd.

Clarke felt a calloused hand grab her bicep, hauling her toward the Ark.

"I can do it myself," Clarke ripped her arm from their grasp, turning awkwardly on her crutches to find herself face to face with Marcus Kane.

"Then go," he ordered.

With a frustrated huff, Clarke limped off into the Ark, Abby following behind her.

The rest of the day crawled by, Clarke was going stir crazy by dinner. She had been stuck in a medical all day under the watchful eye of the mother. Abby had finally freed her daughter by dinner; Clarke almost cheered when Abby released her.

She sat with Bellamy and Raven, enjoying the easy conversation she could have with them.

"I just have to stop at my tent for a second," Clarke told Raven.

"Yeah, I'll meet you in mine," Raven smiled, moving on and leaving Clarke alone for the first time all day.

Clarke revelled in it. She entered her tent, looking around for a moment before taking a seat on her cot. She drew a deep breath, closing her eyes.

But before she could exhale, a filthy hand slapped quietly over her mouth. Clarke's baby blues flew open, terror and surprise written across her face. A yell was muffled by the hand as Clarke spasmed, trying frantically to break the grasp.

"Wanheda," a voice growled softly in her ear. "Nice to meet you."

Clarke felt a prick in her neck and suddenly her body fell slack, slumping into a set of filthy, muscular arms. The black surrounded her for the second time that week, pulling her under.

Blue eyes blinked open to the rocky roof of a cave. Clarke could hear a fire crackling close by, casting shadows on the walls. Her neck ached and she could feel rough rope binding her hands behind her back. Besides the fire, Clarke couldn't hear anything, and the eerie silent put the girl on edge. Silence was unpredictable to her. Dangerous.

Clarke struggled, pulling against the ropes in a desperate attemlt to free herself.

"It is useless to struggle, Wanheda," a voice boomed through the cave.

"Let me go," Clarke demanded, her blue orbs flicking around as she searched desperately for the owner of the voice.

"I will let you go when I can hand you over the the Ice Queen, Wanheda," the voice replied.

"What does that mean? Why do you call me that?"

"You removed the threat of the Mountain Men, killing them all with the flick of your wrist. You are the Commander of Death, Wanheda."

"I did what was necessary for my people," Clarke snapped.

Finally, a man stepped into Clarke's line of sight. She took a moment to size him up. He was large, muscular and strong. His long hair kept from his face with tight braids and he wore many layers of fur and leather. As for weapons, all Clarke could find was a sword, slung haphazardly around his waist with a thick leather strap.

"For your people, huh? The same people who have not even made an attempt to rescue their savior," the Grounder taunted her, pacing slowly around the cave, keeping his sharp eyes on her, watching for her reaction.

Clarke was stunned, her mind raced a thousand miles a minute as she fought to find a reason for the absence of a rescuer. Of course, the rational side of her realised that it would take more than a few hours for them to find her. For Bellamy to find her.

"They're gonna come," Clarke argued weakly.

The Grounder scoffed before sauntering out of the cave.

Clarke stayed on the damp ground, watching as the faint light coming from the opening faded, leaving only the fire to light the room. Her mind raced, inventing insade possibilities for Bellamy leaving her to die at the hands of the Grounder.

Of course there was a voice in her mind, telling her that they would be here. They would come for her.

Hours passed and the Grounder didn't make another appearance, which put Clarke on edge. It was late before she heard faint footfalls sounding over the fire, getting closer. She perked up, watching eagerly to see who would come around the corner. Her face fell when her eyes locked onto the determined eyes of Marcus Kane. Guards from Arkadia flanked him, eyes searching and guns ready.

"Clarke!"

He rushed forward, falling to his knees and pulling out a knife from his belt ad begins to hack away at her bindings.

"Where's Bellamy?" she demanded.

"Back at camp," he muttered, finally slicing through the rope, hauling the girl to her feet.

"Let's go," he said, pulling Clarke along as he marched toward the door.

"Wait!"

Her heels dug into the ground as she pulled against the man.

"What?" he huffed, dropping her arm.

"Why didn't Bellamy come?"

Before he could answer, Clarke felt arms snake around her and the cool blade of a knife being pressed to her throat for the second time that week.

"She goes nowhere with you," the deep voice of the Grounder growled into her ear.

Clarke barely had time to react before the loud shot of a gun rang through the small space and the knife slipped from her neck. She let out a loud breath and stumbled forward, falling into the arms of a man she had deemed her enemy.

"You okay?" he asked, hauling her to her feet.

"I'm fine," she snapped.

The trek back to Arkadia was uncomfortable for Clarke. And not only because of her ankle. Her mind was at odds. Part of her wanted to trust Marcus, accept him even. The other part of her wanted to punch him for kissing her mother. She decided to debate if more later.

By the time they could see the gates of their camp, the sun was beginning to rise on the horizon, a pink glow bathing the ground. They trudged tiredly over the dirt and through the gate; instantly they were bombarded with questions about what happened.

It was all a buzz in Clarke's ears as her eyes scanned the crowd, searching for a head of familiar dark curls. She found him quickly, and she found herself elbowing her way through the crowd before her tired body was pressed against his strong, warm chest.

"Thank god. I was so worried," he whispered into her filthy blonde waves.

"I think I wanna stay," Clarke muttered into his shoulder.

"I know," he smiled into her hair.

With almost no effort, Bellamy pulled Clarke off the ground, relieving the pulsing ache from her ankle, and discreetly snuck off to her tent, intent on putting her on her cot and not letting anyone disturb the blonde while she slept.


	5. Chapter 5

Hey! **Here's chapter 5! I'm not super happy with it, because it's kinda a filler chapter, but not really. Tell me what you think! Please read and review!**

 **Disclaimer: Still don't own The 100. Shouldn't be a surprise, guys.**

Redemption

Chapter Five

"Why didn't you come?"

"What do you mean?" Bellamy and Clarke were sprawled out on her cot, her body snuggled against his chest as he lazily traced shaped on her back.

"The rescue mission. You weren't there. Why?"

Clarke looked up at Bellamy with wide blue eyes, begging him to answer.

"Uh," Bellamy stuttered. "It's kinda embarrassing."

"It can't be that bad."

Clarke shifted, resting her cheek on her fist and her elbow against the cot. Her blue eyes were wide with curiosity.

"You've broken me, Princess," Bellamy said, pulling teasingly on the pocket of her jacket.

Clarke watched him expectantly.

"Your... uh... Your mom wouldn't let me leave camp," he admitted.

The girl snorted out a laugh before slapping a hand over her mouth.

"Hey, she can be a scary woman when she wants to be. Anyway, she figured I would do something really stupid. So, she basically help me captive in the med bay."

That time, Clarke couldn't hold back her laughter, giggling freely into Bellamy's shirt.

"What's so funny, Princess?"

"You're scared of my mom," Clarke gasped out.

"Hey! Your mom is a very intimidating woman, especially when she is holding sharp medical equipment," Bellamy laughed.

Clarke nodded, still laughing.

"Speaking of your mother," Bellamy said after the pair had settled. "You should probably go find her. I'm sure she'd ljke to check you over."

"Later," Clarke hummed, suddenly exhausted.

She curled herself closer to Bellamy, closing her eyes delicately before slipping into her dreams.

The blonde slept most of the day, not that anyone blamed her, and when she finally blinked her eyes open, it was almost time for dinner. She was still wrapped in Bellamy's arms, and wen she looked up, Clarke finds his warm eyes watching her.

"Evening," he drawled, a smile pulling at his lips.

"What time is it?" Clarke grumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

"Almost time for supper. Think you're up for eating?"

"I should probably eat. And then find my mom. I guess," Clarke said, grumbling awkwardly

She untangled herself from Bellamy's warm embrace, moving to pull in her shoes.

"Before we go, I was wondering something," Bellamy rose from his spot. Clarke looked at him expectantly.

"Yeah?"

"What happened? With that Grounder," he kept his eyes on her, waiting to judge her reaction.

"I... I don't wanna talk about it," Clarke stuttered, suddenly very interested in her untied laces.

She could hear him shuffle forward on the blankets, swinging his legs over the side to sit beside her.

"What's wrong?" he asked lightly, placing his arm around her slumped shoulders.

Clarke remained silent, eyes locked on her feet.

"You can tell me. It's okay," Bellamy whispered.

The blonde took a deep breath before she began, trying to steady herself.

"It wasn't horrible. Not at first. Not until I opened my big mouth," Clarke explained vaugely.

"Go on."

"I asked him about the name they called me. Wanheda. He told me it means 'Commander of Death' in their language. That they gave me the bame after what happened in Mount Weather," she spoke carefully, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

"Word travels fast down here," Bellamy commented.

Clarke's head whipped up quickly, an expression of shock and slight anger clear on her face. Bellamy chuckled fast.

"Clarke, what happened in that mountain, wasn't solely your fault. I was there too. And so was Monty. It's not only your burden," Bellamy whispered.

Clarke nodded, willing herself to believe his words. And then something unexplainable happened, and Clarke could barely process what happened. Bellamy's lips pressed softly against her dirt smeared forehead and the blonde froze, baby blues wide in surprise.

Quickly, Bellamy withdrew; the two shared a wide eyed look for a moment.

"We... uh... we should go," he stuttered.

"Y-Yeah," Clarke answered, quickly lacing up her boots and scurrying out the doorway of the tent.

Dinner was an uncomfortable affair. Clarke and Bellamy exhanged quick glances over their rations until Raven asked the one question Clarke was dreading.

"So, what's with your new nickname?"

"Uh..." Clarke didn't know how to respond.

"It means 'Commander of Death'," Bellamy jumped in.

"Badass," Raven nodded in approval, a smirk graced the mechanic's face.

Octavia's reaction was similar.

When the rest of the table fell into easy conversation, and Clarke took the spare second to mouth a quick 'thank you' across the table. Bellamy replied with a smile.

After their meal, Clarke and Bellamy wandered from the metal halls out intl the open air. The only sound for a while was the crunch of dirt under their filthy boots.

"So," Bellamy began.

Clarke turned her eyes to look at him. He was silent for a moment, searching his brain frantically for the right words.

"We should probably go find your mom," he said, changing his mind at the last minute.

"Uh, yeah. Right," Clarke nodded.

She turned slowly, walking away and Bellamy watched her for a moment, internally scolding himself for being such a chicken.

They walked silently, neither sure of what to say. The sounds of children playing and people gathering wood for the night's fire filled the silence between the two. Bellamy watched the blonde, trying to pluck up the courage to just tell her. He didn't notice that Clarke was leading him away from the medical bay.

Until they turned into an alcove in between two parts of the fallen station.

Clarke turned on her heel, looking up into his deep brown eyes.

"I don't want to go talk to my mom," she stated. "I want to talk about earlier."

Bellamy watched her for a moment, shocked. She knew him too well.

"We're a good team," Bellamy finally said.

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wanted to hit himself. Clarke's eyes narrowed; her forehead crinkled as she watched him, confused. Bellamy searched desperately for something, anything, to say.

"What?" she asked.

"Uh, I mean," Bellamy stuttered.

"Bellamy Blake; speechless?" Clarke laughed lightly. Bellamy chuckled awkwardly.

"What I wanted to say, is that, after what happened yesterday, with the Grounder, I realized that, if anything ever happened to you, I don't know what I'd do."

Clarke was speechless, mouth slightly open as she processed the information.

"I know, it's ridiculous, but it's true. When you said you were going to leave, I didn't know what would happen. I was selfish, and desperate. It's no excuse for what I did-"

Suddenly, the rambling flow of words from Bellamy's lips were cut off by Clarke's hand grabbing the back of his neck, crashing his chapped lips against hers.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey! Here's chapter 6! Let me know what you think by leaving a review at the end of the chapter!**

 **Disclaimer: Still don't own The 100!**

Redemption

Chapter Six

It took a few days, but slowly, Arkadia had fallen back into a routine. Of course, there were a few changes. Abby had become slightly more relaxed about people leaving camp. She would send small groups each day for hunting. It usually consisted of people from the original 100, accompanied by a few guards and, usually, Octavia.

That particular day, Bellamy and Clarke stood at the wall, waiting for the rest of the day's hunting party.

"You sure you wanna go?" Bellamy asked, worry clear in his features.

"Yes, Bellamy," Clarke answered, pushing her bag up higher on her shoulder.

The two fell into a comfortable silence, watching the camp for the rest of their group. Soon enough, Octavia came sauntering down the path. Her brown locks were braided intricately away from her face and black paint was smeared around her blue eyes.

"You ready?" she chirped, strapping blades to her clothes.

"Yeah. Where to today, O?" Bellamy asked as the rest of the group gathered.

"Down to the border of Ice Nation. Lincoln says there's usually a lot of animals in the woods there," Octavia explained.

Clarke, who had been rummaging through her bag, snapped up to look at the brunette.

"Ice Nation?" the blonde asked.

"Problem?" one of the men from the guard asked.

"No," Clarke glared at him, putting up her strong front. "But we should be careful."

The guard didn't even seem to bat an eyelash at Clarke, pushing the group down the path. The blonde walked on, head held high, gun on her hip and pack bouncing familiarly against her back. Bellamy was beside her, silent as he periodically flicked his brown orbs to check on the girl to his right.

"What's wrong with Ice Nation?" he asked suddenly.

Clarke heaved a sigh.

"The Grounder, he said he was to deliver me to the Ice Queen. He said that the Ice Queen wants to power of Wanheda," Clarke explained.

"Don't worry," Bellamy assured her. "You're not going anywhere."

Clarke was silent, unsure of how to respond.

They walked on, twisting around towering trees and skipping over rocks and roots until Octavia, who had been leading the group, stopped.

"Octavia, what are you doing?" Bellamy asked.

"Nothing. I'm trying to listen."

"Listen for what?"

"Shut up for a second and maybe you'll find out," she snapped.

Bellamy's eyebrows shot up to his hairline, but he said nothing. There was nothing. There was nothing but the light whistle of the wind to fill the silence as the group watched Octavia. She was still, blue orbs scanning the trees for a moment. Clarke tried to listen, to figure out what the brunette was searching for. She could only hear the wind and the faint sound of water. Nothing unordinary.

Suddenly, Octavia pointed to her left.

"This way," she instructed.

The group started off in the direction Octavia ordered wordlessly; Bellamy looked around before turning to his sister.

"Where are we going?" he demanded.

Clarke's blue orbs flickered between the siblings.

"Where there is water, there are animals," Octavia responded before dashing forward to catch up with the group.

Bellamy seemed shocked at his sister's attitude, but followed her none the less, falling into step beside Clarke.

"She had a point," Clarke commented.

Bellamy hummed half heartedly in agreement.

The two walked in silence, keeping eyes on the trees, watching for any kind of disturbance as they neared the border to Ice Nation. Clarke kept jumping at the slightest noises, whipping her body around, hand resting on the handle of the gun. Bellamy would chuckle and assure the jumpy blonde that, even if they were going to be attacked, the Grounders wouldn't make any noise.

"Such a reassurance," Clarke grumbled.

By noon they had finally made it to the water, where they crouched in some bushes and waited.

"How long is this going to take?" one of the guards muttered.

Octavia shushed him before pointing out a large, relatively normal looking, deer.

Slowly and silently, Octavia pulled a knife from her belt, never taking her pale blue eyes off of the animal. With a flick of her wrist, almost too quickly for Clarke to see, the blade sailed from Octavia's fingers. Before the weapon sunk into the deer, the animal feel to the ground; an arrow, complete with white feathers, protruding from it's hide.

"We're not alone," Clarke whispered, blue eyes scanning the other side of the woods.

"What do we do?" one of the guards was shivering.

Clarke snapped her head around to glare at the inconsiderate man.

"Shut up," she hissed, blue eyes cold and narror.

The guard locked eyes with the teenager, challenging her. The blonde held her gaze, eyes boring into the guard as anger rolled off of her in waves. Bellamy hesitantly placed his hand on the girl's shoulder, trying to pull her attention from the guard.

There was a deafening silence, the group's eyes flashing between the staredown and the motionless deer. Octavia broke the silence with a huff, pushing herself from her crouched position; through the brush and ontk the rocky stretch of beach.

"Octavia!" Clarke hissed, eyes wide in fear.

"It's fine," Octavia turned to look at the blonde.

With her back turned, she didn't see the arrow into it was embedded in the brunette's shoulder, just shy of hitting anything too critial.

"Octavia!" Bellamy cried as she girl dropped to her knees, agony streaking aross her painted face.

Like flicking a switch, all hell broke loose. Arrows flew through the sky as Grounders, faces coated in white paint, charged through the trees, war cries on their lips. The girls retaliated, gunfire filling the air.

Clarke worked on autopilot, slipping the gun from the waistband of her worn jeans, standing in the midst of weapons and fired a single bullet. It sliced through the air, mingling in with the other bullets before finding it's mark. The large Grounder's hand fell to his chest, feeling the blood seeping from the wound before collapsing.

The rest froze, weapons fell from their hands as they caught sight of Clarke. They were silent for a moment before beginning to yell, frantically sprinting away into the trees. Clarke watched them flee, baby blues narrowed in confusion.

Her concern was short lived as Bellamy broke through the tree line, falling to his knees beside his writhing sister in the pebbles.

"Bell?" Octavia groaned.

"Shh, you're gonna be okay, O," he muttered.

Clarke was beside the siblings in a flash, taking inventory of the brunette's injuries. The blonde was careful not the touch the arrow protruding from the girl's shoulder. After a moment, she looked up at Bellamy.

"We need to get her back to camp," Clarke ordered.

Bellamy looked over his shoulder at the rest of the hunting party, nodding for them to come closer.

He looked at the two guards before saying, "You so much as make her wince, and you'll answer to me."

Between dragging the deer and cradling Octavia, it took the group almost twice as long to return to Arkadia. As soon as they crossed the threshold of the camp, they were met with Abby and Marcus's worried faces.

"What happened?" Abby asked, taking in the injured girl and the single animal.

"Ice Nation," Clarke said quickly. "I'll explain later."

"Get her to medical, now," Abby barked.

The girl groaned as the two guards started walking again. Bellamy shot them a warning glare.

"Octavia?!"

Clarke spun to see Lincoln tearing across the grass.

"Lincoln, stop," Clarke ordered before he could reach the injured girl as she disappeared inside the metal structure.

"What happened to her?"

"We were on a hunting trip by the water, and Ice Nation, well, a few warriors, they attacked. Octavia got hit with an arrow," Clarke explained.

"Why isn't anyone else injured?" Lincoln demanded.

"I shot one of them, and then... they just... ran."

Lincoln didn't respond as he craned his neck, trying to get a look through the covered doorway.

"Why would they do that?" Clarke asked suddenly.

Lincoln sighed.

"They fear you."

"Why?"

"For the same reason the Ice Queen wants to kill you. People believe that, after what happened on the mountain, that you command death."

Clarke nodded somberly before turning on her heel and marching into the medical bay.


End file.
